Father Of Mine
by Lily Potter4
Summary: Draco's Father considers Draco a thorn in his side ... always has been. always will be. Draco's thoughts. PLEASE READ AND REVIEW


  
  
Father Of Mine  
  
Disclaimer : Everything you recognize belongs to JK Rowling  
  
My father was the typical model citizen. He gave extreme donations to  
charities such as Saint. Mungo's or funding for the cure for after  
affects of the Cruciatous Curse. He was good friends with the Minister  
of Magic, and presented a respectable face (and fa‡ade) to the  
magical community. But he wasn't perfect. He made the wrong choice  
20 long years ago.  
  
When I was one, the first memory I have is of Halloween Night.  
Instead of dressing me up like a clown, and taking me out trick or  
treating, he was no where to be found. I remember searching for him  
around our manor, going as fast as my tiny legs would carry me. But I  
couldn't find him. I never could. That night, much later, he came  
home. He was paler than ever, and shaking like mad. Mother rushed  
over to him, and brought him to the kitchen table. She then went to  
make tea. Always the perfect wife. He sat there, trembling. My  
mother asked him what was wrong. He opened his mouth slowly, as  
though he couldn't trust himself to speak.  
"He he- he's g g gone."  
Mother put her hand to her mouth, shocked.   
"H h how ?"  
"The Potters ." He said , bitterness filling his voice.  
She went to console him, to talk about what they could do. She put  
on a concerned and upset face for my father, but I had seen the relief.   
  
When I was four, my father had a party. A kind of party where a lot of  
people wouldn't want to be invited to. Or to be caught at. A party for  
my father's kind. A Death Eater gathering. In a way. People were  
there, but many were missing. Even I knew. Rosier, Dolohov, Crouch,   
the Lestranges Snape wasn't there. Neither was Karkaroff. But  
those two were alive. They just and't showed up. Neither did  
Pettigrew. But he was dead. Good thing to, or we would have had to  
answer to people like my father. After all, the Dark Lord disappeared  
because of him. Sirius Black was not there. Of course, I knew he  
wasn't a Death Eater. I knew he didn't kill the Potters. I knew he  
didn't kill all those people. But I was sworn to secrecy. I was told to  
promote that story. If I didn't, I could get him released from Azkaban.  
And there were more reasons for my dad to want him there than just  
a school boy hatred.  
  
When I was six, Snape showed up at our door. My father invited him  
in, very unwillingly, I might add. Snape sat down in our living room,  
across from my father. I clung on to my father's chair, staring  
apprehensively up at the man with the hook nose and oily hair.  
"Lucius I want to discuss something with you."  
My father sat stiffly. He nodded.  
"Go on then."  
"Two years ago, you had a parrty. For us. I didn't attend."  
"Yes. You didn't."  
"You see, Lucius, I didn't attend for a number of reasons. First of all, I  
had to be at Hogwarts. But secondly " He took a deep breath. "I I   
- I think that Dumbledore might be on to me." He said this in a rush.  
My father looked grim.   
"You think he might be on to you ?" He said slowly. "My, my, no. We  
can't have that, can we ?"  
Snape shook his head.   
"Very well Severus. If that if your reason for not attending, and  
practically leaving the Death Eaters for that muggle loving fool, it is a  
pathetic excuse for one."  
Snape looked stricken.  
"However, I will accept it. You have never been one to lie."  
Snape let out a I didn't even know I had been holding   
it breath.  
"Well then, it's time for me to go. Duty calls."   
He looked very relieved, as though he had expected my father to  
Avada Kedavra him right then and there. Oh yes, I knew all about  
that as well. Snape turned to me.  
"I hope to see you at Hogwarts. I expect you'll be in Slytherin." He  
sneered at me, and I sneered right back at him. They laughed.   
"Of course I will be. Don't think I'm sone swotty , nancy Gryffindor."  
They laughed again. Those were words I had been taught. From the  
very beginning, that was my upbringing.   
  
When I was eleven, my father made a choice. I was to go to  
Durmstrang. My mother fought with him for days. She wanted me to  
be close, and go to Hogwarts. After a week, to the surprise of  
everyone, he caved in. I could go to Hogwarts. I firmly believe that  
the only reason he let me go is because he wanted to make sure I  
turned into proper Death Eater material. By now, I had turned into the  
perfect Slytherin. Sniveling, snobby, swaggering, sneering. The 4 s'.  
You need to have the four s' to get into Slytherin. Everyone knew  
that. Especially my father. My father the madman, my father the  
saint. The person who tortured others, killed many. The man who beat  
his wife, who influenced his son. He who killed, who lied, who  
tortured, who gave, who took, who forgave. He is my father, father of  
mine.   



End file.
